


and i'm still waking every morning (but it's not with you)

by Valhella



Series: when he wakes [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, The Scorch Trials Spoilers, This is very very VERY movieverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valhella/pseuds/Valhella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He prays for sleep. But when he's awake, that's the real nightmare.</p><p>(a movieverse fic that deals with Thomas's guilt over losing Minho to WCKD).</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i'm still waking every morning (but it's not with you)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic relies heavily on the FILM adaptation of Scorch Trials! So pls be aware of SPOILERS if you haven't seen the film.
> 
> So a couple of things regarding the timeline: it has been confirmed that TDC is going to take place 1 year after TST.  
> Also, keep in mind that in book!TMR, Thomas was stuck in the Glade for about a month, but in film!TMR, it was only like 3-4 days.

**When the world stopped spinning:**

 

He prays for sleep.

But when he's awake, that's the real nightmare.

Every other night, it's the same; his dreams all end in the same screams, the same chaotic mess, the same carnage, then the same outcome.

Then why the hell was being awake worse?

He prays for sleep, then he screams himself awake.

 

.

 

" _Knowing_ Minho," Newt starts off one glorious afternoon, "he's probably glad that we're away from WCKD, safe. Even if he isn't with us."

"Yeah, Thomas," Frypan adds. The attempts are weak, but they're attempts, and he's appreciative (sort of). "I'd say they have it worse than he does. He'll probably annoy them to death."

He forces a smile and tries to suppress the ever-growing urge to get up and run into the desert, find the nearest WCKD facility, and bomb their asses to the ground.

 

.

 

"I've heard of people drinking their own piss out here," Brenda points out. "So you better have a good reason as to why you're deliberately refusing water we have."

"M'not thirsty," he says, stubborn.

"Then at least come sit by the fire. I don't want the future leader of humanity to freeze himself to death."

Thomas scoffs. "That's my name now?"

"Nah. But I take that back. I'd hate to feed your ever-growing ego." Brenda clicks her tongue impatiently at Thomas's lack of response, and shifts her weight onto an entirely different leg. "You know, if you want to talk about it...you can talk about it."

He'd much rather play dumb ( _really_ badly) than continue the conversation. "What?"

"Don't give me that shit," Brenda says, adamant. "But, listen. When you wanna talk about it. _Talk about it._ "

She leaves him as he was.

 

.

 

_The bergs swoop down and wreak havoc, and once again, everything's in complete disarray; he's in complete confusion as to why his own screams are falling silent on his own ears._

_Worse, his screams fall silent on everyone else, and he's left in total helplessness as the berg doors slam shut._

He expects a different outcome. A miracle. The tazers miss. The berg leaves before anybody else is forced on board. Something shoots it down, and a select few survive the wreckage.

Worse, he expects it to be real.

 

.

 

Newt props himself next to Thomas. "You can't starve yourself, mate. Y'know, most people in the middle of the desert would kill for roast chicken."

"Not hungry," Thomas mutters.

"Neither am I. Not really. But I'm gonna need the energy now that we're gonna take down an entire government organization."

" _If_ we're going to take down an entire government organization."

"Hey," Newt says. Thomas hates the sudden exasperation in his voice, and the way he's been moping around camp, he thought he'd have been used to it by now. "If we're going to bust through layers of security and drag Minho back out alive then we need to be prepared."

"Out in the middle of the desert, millions of miles away from civilization. Or what's left of it. The only lifeforms closest to us are cranks, and I wouldn't be surprised if Vince was willing to take them in right around now."

Newt pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't try and make jokes, Tommy, it really doesn't suit you."

 

.

 

Morning next, he wakes up, drenched in sweat. The usual.

Newt snoozes in the corner, completely oblivious to the absolute hell he's suffering.

It's the way he remembers everything; Jorge's arm pressed firmly around his chest as he screamed useless screams; fire burning every last Right Arm supply to the ground; Janson's smirk and Ava Paige's held-up chin as the Berg doors closed; Teresa, the remorse in her eyes not nearly enough to compensate for all the wrong she's done; every last hope, lost.

A scream is caught in his throat that is immediately replaced by wretches, thank god (he'd much rather choke on his own vomit than have Newt suffer more loss of sleep because of his late night screaming) - and he runs, fast as he can, to hurl over the side of anything, get rid of the sick in his stomach.

Familiar hands find their way to his back, comforting him with slow pats as he lets out the worst kinds of wretches and sobs.

He's mad, at first, at how he'd fooled himself into thinking he was too quiet to wake up Newt for the millionth night in a row.

Then he's happy, to say the least, that he's by his side.

 

.

 

"I don't think I've spent a day without him for three years."

It hits Thomas like a brick just then, how he's known Minho not even half as long as Newt has, and he's completely overwhelmed with the realization. "Newt-"

"He's like my brother, Thomas. _My blood_. Seeing him get dragged into that berg and being unable to do anything about it was..." he stops himself this time, for both of them. "He's alive. He has to be."

"Yeah, alive. Like those kids back there. Hooked up to all those tubes." He tries to give some kind of grim laugh, but it comes out more like a snarl. "I'd much rather he was dead."

"He's neither. R'mber?" Newt mutters.

"Remember what?"

"Teresa."

"Believe it or not, I don't particularly feel like having this discussion."

"I know it's hard for you to even think about her. And I know you can't forgive her for what she did. But she made a deal, that if she told WCKD where we were, they would've left us alone. Now, Teresa's the most headstrong girl I know. Something tells me WCKD would've honored their promise."

Thomas stiffens his posture, forces himself to ignore the pangs of relief. A hypothesis wasn't enough, even if it was a reasonable one that came from Newt.

Even if it meant the world.

 

.

 

"I'm not going to sit here and pretend like I don't know why you're so goddamn mopey," Vince starts, a single finger practically digging into the table he was leaning across. "Look, kid. I've lost my share of friends throughout this whole operation. Difference between you and me is that mine are dead."

"I know you're having people go around telling me he's alive as your way of trying to get me to cooperate," Thomas retorts. "I'll be mopey if I want. I've seen what WCKD can do. I've seen what they're capable of. Don't tell me not to be afraid of an organization that's killed hundreds of kids."

"That's not what I'm saying, braniac. I'm saying, _your friend_. The one with the hair? Yeah, he's alive." Thomas's absolute stunned silence prompts Vince further: "Tall kid, Asian -"

"Minho."

"Look familar?"

Thomas snatches the papers Vince pulls out in front of him and scans everything: from the grainy screenshot of Minho's WCKD profile looking like he's about to kill whoever took the video, to the classifications of "Group A" and "The Leader", down to the printing at the end that read "Property of WCKD".

"Whoop-dee-doo," Vince says, taking the papers back. "Go on, celebrate. If I found out any of my friends were back from the dead I'd get shitfaced drunk."

 

.

 

**When the world still turned:  
**

 

Thomas swears, sometimes, he's so sure Minho's smile is bright enough to make him forget he's stuck in the middle of a giant maze. As stupid as that sounded.

But most times, particularly this one, when they're alone in the map room, Thomas swears it's the worst thing that's ever happened to him. Because Minho's just watching him with that stupid beautiful smile, laughing under his breath, his hands resting on the sleeves of his backpack.

" _What_?" he finally snaps, exasperated. They're supposed to be finding a way out and into freedom, not ogling at each other like a bunch of horny kids.

"Nothin', shuckface. It's just that I've thought about it once or twice, if we could suggest hot pieces of ass to show up in the box. I guess WCKD can't be all bad."

Thomas hates himself for how his heart manages to beat faster even with the nonsense spewing from Minho's mouth. "That's lame. Even for you."

Minho shrugs. "Maybe you make me say lame things."

"We're not gonna get anything done if all you're gonna do is make half-assed attempts to flirt with me." He's right, he knows it.

It's just that he's wanted Minho ever since he stepped into that godforsaken maze.

So they decide to stop being idiots, to just do what they'd be wanting to for the last few days.

He's counting down the seconds before he's going to practically launch himself from across the table and wrap his arms around Minho's neck, but it's Minho who goes round to meet their lips, and Thomas swears.

It's heaven.

Minho puts one hand behind Thomas's neck, the other to rest on his abdomen, where he traces down, slowly, to finally meet the space right above his cock. Then, unceremoniously, he starts tugging at the zipper separating them. Thomas crashes his lips into Minho's, sloppily, he knows; but he doesn't care, he needs to have one good taste, _just one_ , before Minho gets his own taste of him.

"Fuck," Thomas breathes, as Minho pulls apart, briefly, to meet the skin of his neck. There, Thomas is sure he leaves marks - and honest to god, he's ashamed at how much he doesn't care if the others see them later. "Fuck, Minho."

Minho plants one last kiss on Thomas's mouth before he sucks lightly at his neck. Then he finishes up loosening Thomas's pants - Thomas aiding in the process by lifting his hips from the edge of the table they had been resting on - and Minho kneels, slowly, taking the rest of Thomas's pants with him so that they're loose around his ankles. He looks up at Thomas, slowly. "You are so fucking beautiful."

Thomas pants. "Minho. Please."

Minho obliges - more than willingly - and in seconds, Thomas feels the warmth of Minho's mouth, the caressing of his tongue. Minho bobs, slowly, and Thomas is forced to bite his lip - sound carries, he thinks, no matter how far away they were from the Glade.

Minho now has his hand around Thomas's cock, holding it in place as he continues to suck.

"Minho," Thomas moans, before he can stop himself. " _Minho_." Then before he knows it, he has his hands tangled in Minho's hair, pleading him to go on. Thomas leans back, eyes closed. He's close, he can feel it. He can feel it -

He looks down, down at the absolute heaven on earth he was experiencing. And then, as unexpectedly as possible - and Thomas is sure it's completely on purpose - Minho sneaks a glance upward as he gives a final, careful lick. Thomas comes, his whole body shuddering, and he feels his grip on Minho's hair loosen.  He feels the weight in the ground shift, and suddenly Minho's there.

Gaining balance, Thomas curls a hand around Minho's neck and thanks him with a kiss, the slowest and sweetest he can muster.

"What, you gonna say you love me now, greenie?" Minho murmurs mockingly as he pulls away.

"I'd love anybody who would do what you just did," Thomas retorts.

 

.

 

"Is this home now?" Minho asks. There's an air of sarcasm in his voice, but Thomas knows, deep down he knows, he's flooding with relief.

The hell that was the maze, and 3 years of it. Thomas isn't quite sure how Minho hadn't gone crazy running for that long.

They manage to isolate themselves away from the rest, because Teresa's _still_ getting extra tests done, and Newt and Frypan are still getting shots.

"Guess so," he mutters, though what he really wants to say is that he isn't sure, that there's a knot in his stomach that's twisting by the minute.

"So, what. Let's just forget the last three years? Everything that's happened in the maze?"

He feels the corners of his lips twitch. "Not everything."

Minho licks his lips before they lock themselves in a tight embrace, kissing hard enough to let Thomas forget about the last few days.

 

.

 

 

They stand there, perched, overlooking the vast wasteland that surrounded the camp. The scorch in the nighttime wasn't completely unbearable. Gusts of wind would come now and then and sweep them away from the heat of the day. Neither of them can remember the last time they had seen a sky so orange.

It wasn't home, but it was salvation, of sorts.

He'd gotten them out, like he promised. Away from WCKD. Away from the terrible fate he had witnessed back at the headquarters, those poor kids hooked up to all those tubes, existing but not living.

"I've seen grievers up close. _And_ I've spent the last three years of my life running in a maze. I'm not afraid." Minho's posture is impeccable, and he stands there with his arms locked in a firm cross.

He's defiant in his tone, even in the way he refuses to meet Thomas's eyes, despite the fact that _both_ of them knew it would ease the stress, make the desert wasteland more bearable.

"It's OK to be scared, Minho," he says.

Minho laughs dryly. "No, it's not. But of course you'll say that. You're not scared of shit."

"Of course I'm scared," Thomas says through gritted teeth, anger rising. "I'm trying to keep us safe, _all of us_."

"Then what the hell do you think I've been doing for three years?" Minho spits. "Listen to me, shuckface. I don't do this. I don't trust people with my life or any of that. A million boys showed up in that box. So I don't know what the hell's so special about you."

It's a bit uncalled for, even for Minho.

But Thomas knows how to ease the strain. He's terrified, if anything, of how delicate their connection was, if they had one at all, but Thomas was so sure they did.

Out in the scorch, this was weakness, and they both knew it.

Not like they cared.

So he inches closer to Minho and brushes his lips against the reddening tip of his ear. "Why don't you tell me?" he says, and he takes his hand and slides it, slowly, from Minho's abdomen down to the top of his trousers. Their eyes meet as delicate fingers slide their way right into them, and Thomas feels the hardness of his cock, the wanting.

Minho takes Thomas's neck in his hand, eerily similar to the way Thomas had done to him all those weeks before, and their lips clash in a way he never would have imagined. He's experiencing every type of heaven on earth, he knows it, even though both of them taste like sweat and grime and everything they've been through from the maze to the scorch to WCKD leading a manhunt to find them.

Minho slides his hand beneath Thomas's shirt, but Thomas takes it slowly and returns it to Minho's side. "We can't...not here."

Minho lets out a low chuckle, eyes glued to the ground. "I've wanted you. Wanted you ever since the maze."

"You've got me," Thomas says. "All of me. Here in the scorch and whatever the hell's after that."

 

.

 

 **When the world stopped spinning, pt ii:**  

 

He wakes in cold sweat.

It's routine now, but that doesn't stop the rushing flow of sadness and longing. Or the usual pangs of guilt.

He digs down deep, tries to muster any kind of positivity, because Vince says Minho's alive, and Newt says he's not hooked up to tubes like they'd thought, and Brenda's still standing on tip toe to give him comfort hugs.

He's still in the middle of the scorch, preparing like he said he would. Day turns to night, then he goes to sleep.

Waiting.

Longing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to write a sequel to this soon that's quite AU-ish, so this will probs be the first in a series!


End file.
